Tchaikovsky’s tragic masterpiece can be presented with the minimum of means and on the smallest of scales, and this new production from American director Tedd Huffman, making his long-anticipated main house debut at ROH, decides to adopt a less is more approach. In fact, his stripped back staging, comprising a couple of chairs, a candle-topped table and a set of chandeliers, is so bare one wonders if the Royal Opera House are intending taking this Onegin on tour. That said, Huffman allows us to observe without distraction the personal dramas of the central characters. How we respond to their various emotional crises largely depends on how well the singers inhabit their roles. In this regard, and with a mostly young and international cast, this aspect is only partially successful. With so little to catch the eye and the stage bearing a resemblance to a derelict village hall on a wet Friday afternoon with no sign of Madame Larina’s country estate, this production feels decidedly cheerless. We can be thankful for Astrid Klein’s mostly modern dress costumes, a mélange of colour but little that signifies anything vaguely Russian.
Aside from some varied and seemingly undirected performances, Huffman makes some interesting decisions which may appeal to those who enjoy a fresh slant on Alexander Pushkin’s 1833 novel-in-verse. In the letter writing scene, a pyjama-clad Tatyana confides in her sister Olga and bids her to be her scribe and write to Onegin. Her girlish feelings exposed, they are wilfully ignored later by Olga when seducing Onegin with much simulated enthusiasm at Tatyana’s birthday bash. In a similar act of directorial interference, the Act 2 duel scene (atmospherically lit and with lots of snow) becomes a suicide with Lensky picking up Onegin’s pistol and shooting himself. It’s a scene drained of any tension and ending with Lensky taking a bow and leaving the stage. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one mystified by this peculiar stunt. Does Huffman believe the suicide is a natural consequence of Lensky’s gloomy ruminations, or does he want us to make Onegin feel guilty for his conduct with Olga. Being asked to reconsider the actions of characters is one thing, and especially if this provides a credible alternative perspective, but Lensky’s stage exit is a false step.
That said, there are some impressive performances, and among the principals who consistently hold the ear are Kristina Mkhitaryan and Armenian Liparit Avetisyan. Mkhitaryan’s Tatyana is a credible traversal of self-absorbed bibliophile through to society beauty, her poise and sense of duty amply realised. Her soprano is the real deal, with just enough heft to ride over the orchestra, and she brings expressive nuance to the letter scene (with some wonderfully touching mezzo voce passages), and at her best in the closing duet with Onegin, its emotional charge now glowing with fervour. No less passionate is Avetisyan’s Lensky, whose jewelled tenor carries easily and generated extended applause for his self-pitying Act 2 lament, delivered with pathos and refinement. A rich-voiced Avery Amereau (more of a contralto than a mezzo) is his childhood sweetheart Olga, a vivacious presence that brings some much-needed vitality to the opening scenes and later as a maiden aunt to Tatyana’s two young children – another of Huffman’s thoughtful additions. It’s a shame that her natural stage presence makes Gordon Bintner’s Onegin look stolid. Tall and urbane, he looks the part of an aristo, but there is little warmth or power in his baritone, nor does his voice always find the centre of the notes. And it is the low notes and instinctive nobility of veteran bass Brindley Sherratt (replacing an indisposed Dmitry Belosselskiy) which define his performance as Prince Gremin.
Elsewhere, Rhonda Browne as Filipyevna and Alison Kettlewell as Madame Larina add their own distinctive timbres and personalities, while Christophe Mortagne, as the foppish Monsieur Triquet, brings a sinister presence to his cameo role. The chorus is on magnificent form, and if the dancing does not especially arrest the eye, everyone enters into the spirit of Tchaikovsky’s score, not least the Royal Opera House orchestra whose ensemble, in time, will improve as Henrik Nánási’s direction becomes tighter. But if there is one undoubted star of the evening it is Tchaikovsky’s imperishable music.
David Truslove
Eugene Onegin
Composer: Pyotr Tchaikovsky
Libretto: by the composer and Konstantin Stepanovich Shilovsky after the verse novel by Alexander Pushkin
Cast and production staff:
Onegin – Gordon Bintner; Tatyana – Kristina Mkhitaryan; Lensky – Liparit Avetisyan; Olga – Avery Amereau; Monsieur Triquet – Christophe Mortagne; Prince Gremin – Brindley Sherratt; Madame Larina – Alison Kettlewell; Filipyevna – Rhonda Browne; Monsieur Triquet – Christophe Mortagne; Prince Gremin – Brindley Sherratt
Director –Tedd Huffman; Designer – Hyemi Shin; Costumes – Astrid Klein; Lighting – D.M Wood; Movement Director – Lucy Burge; Royal Opera Chorus, Orchestra of the Royal Opera House; Conductor – Henrik Nánási
Royal Opera House, London, 24 September 2024
All photos by Tristram Kenton/Royal Opera House